


Acrophobia

by philomel



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: First Time, M/M, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-06
Updated: 2011-11-06
Packaged: 2017-10-25 18:01:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/273160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/philomel/pseuds/philomel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Is it a fear of heights, or a fear of falling?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Acrophobia

You've heard this before.

You've seen it too.

But you sit, because you're already sitting.

Like a marathon of bad tv, you don't move until it's 2 a.m. and you're finally disgusted with yourself.

Jared's not asleep, but he's about to be, and you're tempted to let him. You want to see if his head will fall toward you, like a sign. You scratch your neck and flick your nail under the number pads on the remote control but the channel doesn't change.

 

* * * *

 

Jensen talks with his hands.

You can always read the loud tug and pulling shout of each _yes_ , but the _no_ ’s are not so clear. More often, he tells you _maybe_ , with a kiss he can't finish, hanging half-done in the air between you. This unmade decision is still a decision, and you can't see the point of moving forward at all if the journey's cut short.

It's not your move, it's his. And you'll wait every time, but patience is a virtue for people who haven't enjoyed a good vice. Your grip on his thighs is a little less than friendly, so you smile at him with practiced innocence to swing the balance back. He sways beneath your hands, heat rippling down the length of muscles.

You won't talk at all; it's not your line.

 

* * *

 

You love taking risks as much as he does. He's just better at it. Jared shines each like a badge, triumphant. You slump, your accomplishments pushing happiness a little farther inside.

You are well insulated.

He told you this, pushing fingers in your buttonholes, tracing the V of your henley, ratcheting your jacket zipper up and down on one side. You don't know if he meant it figuratively. But he's smarter than he looks.

 

* * *

 

You still don't know what he wants.

He's got your cock in his hand like he's never held one before.

This is the farthest Jensen's gotten to telling you he wants you. It should be obvious.

It is. But.

It isn't. He's slackjawed and staring, smoothing fingers over the hair around your cock like he could straighten it out. It's ironic, maybe.

What you want is to push him down on his knees and show him how it's done.

What you do is jerk off on the toilet when he's gone.

 

* * *

 

You run when there's nowhere left to go. Your skin lifts up, a trail of pores, pulling away. It's a nice try; you can't run from yourself. Lord knows you've tried.

In the middle of the room, you corner yourself, air too thick to let you through, too thin to hold you steady.

Jared sits on the couch like he has a hundred times. He claims your drink, owns your remote, takes up more space than a person with his knees drawn up has a right to.

You take your drink back, shut off the tv, put your hands on the insides of his knees.

He doesn't move, doesn't even blink. He's probably waiting for you to pull away. It's what you do.

But what you don't do now, pushing his knees apart, plunging your hands down the insides of his thighs, down to the creases between his legs where you rest, down to his lips where you sink together, letting gravity take you there. You can trust in simple physics like that, it just takes a while to earn it.

Because once you fall, it's best to stay down.

You aren't afraid of heights if he's with you on the floor.

**Author's Note:**

> Beta: themoononastick.


End file.
